Saturday 27 February 1999

Eek. Sorry about being xtremely late with my saturdiary. I fell asleep in the evening instead of in the morning, and slept all night, the creative part of my life. *sigh*

For those who feel cheated without a picture, I gracefully provide a link to a fairly recent picture on my Snow Camouflage page.

Anyway, I went to town well before noon. Once there, as I was walking in the general direction of my workplace, I saw a young woman with an incredibly beautiful skirt, and there went almost an hour. She also had a lot of very red hair (which is not a bad thing at all). Anyway, I finally arrived at my workplace and actually worked for a while, then set the computers spinning while I read a little, then met the female boss and explained why I was there on a saturday, then went home. She did not explain why she was there. Then again, she doesn't get paid for it.

Reflection: In our branch of government (and probably all or nearly all places where there's no need to turn a profit) there are generally two ways you can become a leader.
If you're a young, bright woman you can get in on the quota, since there's always a lack of female leaders. The kind of women we're talking about are those who work twice as much as a man (not that this need take all day, but it tends to do) and are actually intelligent and still work in such a place. This keeps the number fairly low, though we're happy to have one as a leader and one as a second-in-command now, for the first time.
The recommended career path for men, however, is to survive your superiors. No special skill is needed. All you have to do is punch your card in the morning and again in the evening. The more years you've been around, the more likely that you will be considered for advancement the next time a boss dies, retires or relocates to advance further into the foggy realms of upper management (or, in extreme cases, gets a real job).

Anyway, I came home and ate a bit, sat and stared a bit, read and responded to e-mail and Usenet, and sat down to write my diary. When thinking about the day, I became very sleepy (as you will by now understand) and fell asleep for ten hours.

Visit the Diary Farm for the diaries I've put out to pasture until they buy the farm:
January 1999
December 1998